


Two For Holding

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 08:38:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: The weight of missing Tatsuya, being with him (in every sense) and playing hockey with him and even getting chirped all crashes down on him like a Zamboni (never mind that this is a roller rink).





	

**Author's Note:**

> kagahimu 4/10!!
> 
> thanks val for the prompt (kagahimu + roller hockey)
> 
> established high school kagahimu is....unlikely but imo not totally out of the realm of possibility /shrugs

Tatsuya’s already at the rink when he gets there, stick-handling between the circles and out and back, too focused on the puck to notice Taiga. It’s the perfect opportunity to watch him go, something Taiga’s gotten to do very little in the past few months (mostly through shitty streams of the winter cup that always stop and start just when Tatsuya hits the ice and are too pixelated and blurry to begin with). And none of that has been in person; none of that has been like this, just Tatsuya and the stick and the puck, doing whatever the hell he wants with it, blowing through invisible defenders. Like this, Taiga can see everything perfectly, the set of his shoulders, the goal right in Tatsuya’s line of sight; he can never guess which way Tatsuya’s going to abruptly spin until he hears the wheels of his skates scuff the floor of the rink again.

He's only going to watch for so long; it’s been ages since he’s gotten to go out on this rink or since he’s played on anything but ice (yeah, he skates to school sometimes, but that doesn’t count; sidewalk concrete feels completely different under his wheels). He hops over the boards, and when he hits the floor Tatsuya turns and the puck nearly trickles away from his stick; he pulls it back in without looking and raises his free hand to wave at Taiga. Taiga’s already almost there, going a little slower than usual to get the feel of the floor under his wheels, but he knows it well enough that even being so acclimated to ice he ends up speeding up because he’s been waiting what feels like eons to see Tatsuya.

He’s already skating off, forcing Taiga to follow him, pushing the puck up ahead on his stick. Taiga really wants to hug him (and kiss him, and do things that aren’t really appropriate for a rink with him) but it’s still sort of weird and surreal that he and Tatsuya are in a capital-r Relationship, and even though he’s thought about all of this for too long it still makes him more than a little bit nervous. And things like that don’t seem to get to Tatsuya in the same way, but that doesn’t mean they don’t, and from the aside glances that Tatsuya doesn’t need to be giving him, Taiga is pretty sure he’s feeling some sort of similar thing, and well. Fighting off those nerves with hockey sure as hell isn’t a bad thing, not when he’s been waiting to play with Tatsuya, too.

Tatsuya flips the puck into the net and turns, skidding to a halt right on the goal line. Taiga stops right in front of him, fishing out the puck from the net, and then Tatsuya’s hand is on his arm, brushing over the still-fresh scar on the inside of his wrist.

“What happened here?”

His mouth is puckered into a frown, his eye narrow, flashing like steel blades on a freshly-sharpened ice skate.

“Got slashed,” Taiga says, wincing at the memory (it had been pretty fucking bloody, but they’d cleared him to play as soon as the stitches were off and he’d been this close to convincing Coach to let him play even before then). “I’m fine.”

Tatsuya looks a little skeptical, raising his face to look over Taiga’s carefully. It had been a while back; they’ve both had worse—though, Taiga supposes, maybe it’s not even that and just that he wasn’t here. That’s the kind of look Tatsuya’s giving him, anyway, the same look he’d given Taiga when he’d talk about those years he’d spent in Tokyo before they’d met again. It’s like worry and regret and uncertainty and something else, and like every emotion it looks beautiful on his face but Taiga wants this one to go away, especially when he’s the cause.

“Okay,” Tatsuya says finally, and before he goes to pick up his stick Taiga turns over his hand and squeezes Tatsuya’s.

Taiga wants to kiss him until he smiles, but Tatsuya’s already skating into a defensive position. He goes backwards the other way; Taiga tries to push past him but he’s really not all that warmed up (he is enough not to let Tatsuya strip him from the puck). They’re finally in between the circles; Taiga dekes but Tatsuya can see it coming from a mile away. He goes forehand, backhand, tries to flip the puck over Tatsuya’s stick and get it on the other side but Tatsuya’s too quick and steals the puck back.

“Is that the kind of stuff they’re teaching you at that school?” he says.

The smile on his face is gentle, but the spark in his eye is real, and this is too fucking much. The weight of missing Tatsuya, being with him (in every sense) and playing hockey with him and even getting chirped all crashes down on him like a Zamboni (never mind that this is a roller rink). Tatsuya’s gliding backwards, slow enough for Taiga to catch the logos on his wheels as they spin. He lunges, catching himself and swerving to a halt right in front of Tatsuya. He’s caught him by surprise, enough to nudge the puck away before he pushes Tatsuya backwards (with very little resistance from him) until they both hit the boards.

“That’s illegal,” Tatsuya says, lips inches away from Taiga’s.

“What are you going to do about it?” says Taiga.

He slides his foot between Tatsuya’s, pushes lightly until Tatsuya lets him in and their legs are slotted together (and like this, without uniforms or pads, Taiga can feel absolutely everything).

“That’s two for boarding, at least,” says Tatsuya (his breaths are coming just a hair shorter but enough for Taiga to hear it). “Two for interference, maybe? Two for holding.”

Taiga leans his stick against the boards and puts his hands on Tatsuya’s hips.

“How’s that for holding?”

“I think you can do better.”

“Hmm,” says Taiga.

He thumbs the warm skin right under the hem of Tatsuya’s shirt, trying to figure out how much he can get away with here. The rink attendants probably aren’t here yet (he’s never been sure what the official hours are because every time they change the locks Alex or Tatsuya or both have charmed their way into getting a spare key). Tatsuya’s cheeks are starting to flush; he brings up one hand to the back of Taiga’s neck and starts to lean in. He doesn’t get very far until their helmets clack against each other. Taiga frowns.

“Guess we have to wait, huh?” says Tatsuya.

Taiga whines, dropping his head down to Tatsuya’s shoulder and clasping his hands around Tatsuya’s back, his knuckles pressed against the dirty plexiglass above the boards. He feels Tatsuya’s laugh vibrating against him, like a cool wind on a hot summer day after they’ve been playing hockey on the street for hours. Taiga still wants to at least kiss Tatsuya now, even if everything else has to wait, because he’s been waiting long enough for all of this—but is just kissing him really feasible right now? It doesn’t seem like it when Tatsuya rolls his hips and when his thumb brushes over the base of Taiga’s hairline. Maybe he’s being too greedy, but they’ve already wasted so much time; they’ve already spent too many months physically apart again.

“Hey,” Tatsuya says, like he knows what Taiga’s thinking without even looking at his face, as if his skin is transparent and his thoughts are running through his veins just beneath. “I’m here now.”

(He’ll be back in Akita in a week, but that’s not worth pointing out. And Taiga knows he’s being greedy and whiny about this, but it’s Tatsuya so he’s already decided he’s allowed to be.)

Tatsuya nudges Taiga with his elbow, pokes at his ankle with his stick, and Taiga pulls back, picking up his own stick. The puck’s lying near the circle just outside the zone on the other side. Coach had told him to work on faceoffs, that they’re thinking of trying him at center—but now isn’t really the time for that (plus there’s no one here to drop the puck, even if there’s no one better to practice with than Tatsuya). They skate around half-lazy, Taiga trailing behind Tatsuya until he decides he wants to move in and get the puck. It’s harder this time; the more Tatsuya moves away, slides the puck out from under him, the more Taiga wants it, until they’re going full-out again.

“Hey!”

Taiga’s just about to score when the shout makes him turn around; one of the rink attendants is leaning over the boards, a roll of crepe paper tucked under her arm.

“We’ve got a birthday party here in about an hour, so as much as I’d love to let you guys stay…”

“Right,” says Tatsuya. “Thanks.”

“It’s good to see you, though,” she says. “Don’t be a stranger, Tatsuya.”

“I’ll be around more often soon,” he says, picking up the puck and skating over to the boards.

“You either,” she says, pointing the roll at Taiga.

He raises his stick in mock-salute.

It always takes a little while to shake off the feeling of being on skates, standing in the parking lot in his slide flipflops trying to get used to the sunlight. They drop their gear bags in the trunk of Tatsuya’s car (it’s still got some crap from Tatsuya’s last visit home, a torn-up grocery bag Taiga’s middle school hoodie (so that’s where it had gone). There’s a couple of fresher McDonald’s coffee cups up front, and something about the disarray of Tatsuya’s car makes something fond swell up in Taiga. It’s so familiar, so perfectly Tatsuya, that it puts him beyond at ease. And it’s then Taiga remembers they’re not wearing helmets, and just as Tatsuya’s about to turn the key in the ignition Taiga leans over and kisses him.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” Taiga whispers as they both pull back, and Tatsuya reaches over to squeeze his knee before he turns the key.


End file.
